


for our future

by enamuko



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Adopted Children, F/F, Family Fluff, Minor Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Minor Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Minor Ferdinand von Aegir/Bernadetta von Varley/Hubert von Vestra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enamuko/pseuds/enamuko
Summary: Edelgard works hard to strike a balance between her duties as Emperor and her time with her beloved wife Byleth and their two wonderful children. Thankfully, she has a great deal of support.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Opalie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalie/gifts).



> This was written as a gift fic for my good friend [@Opalie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalie/pseuds/Opalie)! <3

“...esty? Your Majesty? Lady Edelgard, are you alright?”

“If she is truly so exhausted, perhaps we should adjourn for the day… She clearly needs her rest.”

“L-Lady Edelgard…?”

The voices… Why did they sound so distant, like she was hearing them through syrup? And why was the room so dark…?

Edelgard’s eyes fluttered open, at which point she shot up in her seat like she’d been suddenly struck with a Thoron. She almost startled again when a hand came down on her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze and shake.

“Edelgard?”

She blinked twice, taking a second to resolve the red and orange blur in front of her into the familiar form of Ferdinand.

“Ah… My apologies.” Edelgard’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I must have dozed off. I’m terribly sorry, everyone.”

“Y-you don’t need to apologize, Edelgard… Are you… Okay?”

Edelgard reached up to rub her eyes as she turned to look at Bernadetta. “I’m fine. Please, let us carry on. Did I miss anything of importance?”

“Nothing important enough for you to neglect your health,” Ferdinand replied brusquely. “There is nothing of great enough import on our agenda today that we cannot break for the day. You clearly need rest.”

Edelgard shook her head. “Nonsense. This is hardly a strenuous task. I can continue.”

“While I admire your determination, Lady Edelgard, I must agree with Ferdinand. There is nothing important enough to demand your immediate attention. We can carry on tomorrow.”

“What Hubert is _trying_ to say is that there is no need to be so stubborn, Edelgard; we can handle such matters on our own.”

“Are you suggesting that Lady Edelgard’s judgement is _unnecessary_ , Ferdinand?”

Edelgard was caught between rolling her eyes at the bickering, and feeling almost soothed; it seemed that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Bernadetta made a high-pitched noise of distress as Ferdinand and Hubert’s tiff— which Edelgard had stopped paying attention to the contents of— started escalating, but instead of shutting down completely or having some kind of meltdown as Edelgard might have expected from the Bernadetta she had known during school, she scooted closer on the opposite side from Ferdinand and put a hand over Edelgard’s.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked.

“I’m perfectly fine.” Edelgard put her hand on top of Bernadetta’s. “I’m just tired. I hardly slept last night. Anton was up most of the night with a stomach bug, and his constant getting out of bed kept Clara from sleeping through the night as well.”

It might not have been ‘proper’, but Edelgard leaned back in her seat with her hands folded over her stomach. Surely she could be allowed a moment of impropriety in front of three of her closest friends… Particularly when two of them were too busy arguing and making eyes at each other to pay her much mind.

“O-oh… Is he alright?”

“The doctor insists it’s just a minor stomach bug and that it should work its way out of his system soon.” Edelgard covered her mouth with the back of her hand as she yawned. “Byleth is with him now… To be honest, I’m much more interested in checking on him than I am in sleeping, but I know Byleth would come and inform me if anything had happened.”

“Still… You must be worried sick yourself!” Bernadetta gave her head a shake. “Ferdie was right… We can handle this by ourselves. You should go check on him.”

“I’m… Not so sure that’s a wise idea,” Edelgard said, looking over at her arguing Prime Minister and Imperial Minister— who she actually wasn’t sure whether they were still _fighting_ , or if it had transitioned entirely into _flirting_.

“O-or we can wait until tomorrow, like Hubie said! Whatever you want, Lady Edelgard…”

Edelgard shook her head, putting a hand up so she could stop the nervous-sounding Bernadetta before she got onto one of her panicked tangents. “If the three of you feel like you can handle the rest, perhaps it _is_ a good idea for me to break for the evening. Do you think you’ll be alright with getting them back on track?”

“S-sure thing! I mean… They get like this all the time, so I have… A lot of practice.”

Edelgard supposed if there was anyone capable of it, it was Bernadetta— she struggled often to keep them on track for even the most important task, despite the fact that Hubert would bend over backwards to please her and Ferdinand was constantly trying to flaunt his competence.

Bernadetta, on the other hand— despite her constant struggle in social situations, not to mention her desire to hide herself away from anything even remotely resembling conflict— was a master at it. Though Edelgard supposed she would _have_ to be, to avoid going absolutely insane day in and day out; if Ferdinand and Hubert bickered constantly the way they seemed to in meetings, she was quite certain she wouldn’t be able to stand living on the same _street_ as them, nevermind sharing a bed.

“I think I’ll duck out while they’re still busy,” she said, rising from her chair and leaning in to whisper almost conspiratorially to Bernadetta. “I’ll leave them in your capable hands.”

“Give Anton a feel better hug and kiss for me!”

Edelgard smiled as she slipped out and headed straight for her private chambers.

Edelgard had not been certain she ever wanted children. It was not because she disliked the idea of being a mother; far from it. Rather, she hadn’t wanted to raise a child in a world where they had any chance of ending up like she had, going through the same horrible pain.

Of course, that was before she and the Professor had carved a new future for Fodlan together, where no one would have to suffer the way she had ever again— and before she had found herself so desperately in love with the woman in question that the idea of starting a family with her had been far too tempting to pass up.

Edelgard knew how to sneak around the Imperial Palace without being seen, even by her own servants; she had gotten quite skilled at it when she was just a girl, both before and after her confinement, albeit for different reasons…

But really, she had enough things to worry about in the present day to get wrapped up in old bad memories.

She dodged any potential questions or being bothered by any of the servants with the skill of a seasoned assassin, and slipped silently into her private quarters with a silent sigh of relief.

As she started shucking off bits and pieces of her casual regalia, heedless of the fact that she was still in her receiving room and not in her bedroom proper (as if anyone would say anything to her about it), she heard faint singing coming from the bedroom beyond. She tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes, staying perfectly silent to try and focus entirely on the sound.

Edelgard kicked off her boots and left them where they lay by the door— something Hubert would have balked at— and practically crept towards the bedroom. The sound was still faint, even if she pressed her ear up against the door…

She cracked the door open as softly as she could and peered inside, hoping not to disturb what she knew would be an adorable sight…

Byleth was lying on their bed, still dressed in her night clothes; Edelgard wondered if she had ever actually changed out of them, and hoped that she had managed to get some sleep; Edelgard had been up most of the night, but Byleth had constantly insisted she go back to bed and leave everything to her.

_“You have a lot of work to do tomorrow. I can take care of him. Get some rest.”_

(Edelgard had tried so hard to follow her wife’s advice, if only because Byleth had wanted her to do so— it just hadn’t been in the cards for her.)

Byleth wasn’t alone in bed; Anton was curled up against her side, face flushed from his fever, eyes fluttering like he was halfway between awake and asleep. The singing was Byleth singing softly singing some sort of lullaby to him as she gently stroked his hair, stopping every now and again to adjust the damp cloth on his head and make sure he was comfortable.

The door gave the smallest creak even though Edelgard _tried_ to open it as slowly and carefully as possible, so as not to disturb them; Byleth, her senses honed by a lifetime of mercenary work and being thrown into the deep end of a horrific war, immediately snapped her eyes in her direction.

“I’m sorry,” Edelgard said softly, not wanting to wake Anton if he was leaning more towards asleep than awake. “I didn’t want to bother you, you looked so peaceful…”

Byleth’s face was still, for the most part, unreadable— though Edelgard was proud of how much better she had gotten at it over the years. It wasn’t that Byleth was emotionless; it was that her emotions simply didn’t show on her face as easily as they did for some people. You had to look for other cues.

For one: the way Byleth’s eyes went from hard as stone to soft and gentle as soon as she saw that it was no threat, only Edelgard, without so much as a twitch of an eyebrow or curl of a lip. The way her hand went from a tight claw on Anton’s shoulder, holding him close like she was ready to shield him with her own body, to rubbing gently, soothing even though he hadn’t so much as woken up.

Edelgard climbed half into the bed so she could lean in and press a kiss to Byleth’s forehead. “How is he feeling?”

“Better.” She reached down to remove the cloth from his forehead and place her own hand across. “His fever hasn’t broken, but it’s gone down. And he managed to eat some porridge.”

“And Clara?”

“Just went down for her nap.”

Edelgard slid back off the bed, still removing layers of clothing until she was down to her underclothes, and slipped on her dressing gown as she moved to the door to the nursery.

“Don’t wake her, okay?” Byleth said softly. Edelgard nodded.

“I just want to check on her.”

She slipped quietly into the room. It was dark, curtains drawn so the early evening sun wouldn’t disrupt Clara’s nap.

Edelgard crept over to her crib, trying to be as quiet as absolutely possible. She peered in and couldn’t help but smile.

She reached in and gently pet her soft maroon curls, still light and fluffy, like a newborn bird’s down. She only barely resisted the urge to try to lean in and kiss the top of her head, or to pick her up to kiss her, knowing that would wake her up… But it was a personal conflict she always had whenever she saw her daughter sleeping.

When she managed to fight off the urge and slip back out of the room, she found Anton staring at her with bleary half-asleep eyes. He reached up to cover up a yawn and blinked at her.

“Are you done with work, mama…?”

Byleth scooched over to one side of the bed, dragging Anton’s tired limp form along with her, making room for Edelgard on his opposite side. She climbed into bed with them, gently pushing his sweat-matted hair back and out of his face.

“I am, darling,” she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper as she molded herself to the two of them. There was plenty of room in the giant bed of the Imperial bedchamber for them to all spread out, but Edelgard still cuddled up to the two of them, sandwiching Anton between herself and Byleth. “How are you feeling?”

“Better…” Anton turned so he could cuddle in against her instead of Byleth, nuzzling his face against her shoulder. Was it smart of her to curl up so closely with him when he was sick? Probably not, but that was hardly important to her.

“He’s been mostly sleeping since you left.” Like Edelgard was stroking their son’s hair, Byleth’s hand came up to card through hers. She had to lean over Anton a bit to do it, but she unwound Edelgard’s ponytail and ruffled her hair to help fluff out the waves in her hair and the strange tightness in her scalp that always came with wearing a ponytail all day.

“Did you manage to get any rest?” Edelgard asked. Byleth started twisting a long strand of her hair around her finger.

“I dozed a little,” Byleth said, which was code for ‘not really’. Edelgard smiled at her as she tilted her head into Byleth’s hand. “But you were at work all day. You need to get some rest.”

“I feel a lot better just lying here,” Edelgard said— at the same moment that a yawn forced itself out of her mouth.

A little twitch of a smile appeared on Byleth’s face, a rare look that Edelgard always treasured— even when it was her being smug at her expense.

“Get some rest,” Byleth repeated as she leaned over Anton to press a kiss to Edelgard’s forehead. “You can keep an eye on him and listen for Clara while I go see about dinner.”

“Mm.” Edelgard might have normally argued— especially since Byleth had gotten even less sleep than her— but she felt so content, and Anton had his arms wrapped around her and had fallen back asleep against her shoulder, meaning she was trapped there anyway as far as she was concerned.

So instead she just settled in as best she could against the pillows and let her eyes flutter shut as she continued rhythmically stroking her son’s hair, the last thing she saw before letting them truly close being Byleth quietly leaving the room.


	2. Chapter 2

There were actually a variety of reasons Edelgard had always had… _Mixed_ feelings about starting a family, even beyond her political aspirations.

The first was that Crest culture placed far too much emphasis on ‘continuing the bloodline’. Though Adrestia did not have the same almost rabid fascination with it that Faerghus did— she had known Sylvain long enough to be able to say so confidently— it was still enough to have a person never even want to _think_ about having kids. After all, your children were not just small beings for you to love and cherish and raise, oh no— the entire weight of your family and your Crest weighed heavily on their shoulders, and if they were born without one?

Miklan had been proof enough of why Edelgard got shivers just thinking about it.

The second, related to the first, was that Edelgard had always cared little for the idea of marriage. Of course, she had obviously come around to it— if Captain Jeralt’s ring on her finger was not proof enough— but there was a time when marriage, to her, was not a matter of love but a matter of politics and everything she hated about society and the fixation it had on controlling her body because of how “precious” her “gift” from the Goddess was.

Those first two problems she had solved easily enough— if one could call going to war against the most powerful institution in Fodlan and against the two most powerful armies in the country in order to ensure that things would be different for future generations ‘easy’. It wasn’t like those problems had vanished overnight, but now she had the power to _do_ something about it. People didn’t try to tell her that she was too idealistic or even foolish— at least, not to her face.

The third problem was that she was not certain she would ever be able to be a mother… Not after what she had been put through by the Prime Minister and Those Who Slither in the Dark.

Anton and Carla had been the most perfect imaginable solution to that.

Edelgard sat with Anton sitting halfway in her lap as she brushed his hair. He squirmed as she combed out a knot.

“Just hold still a little longer,” she said as she pulled the brush through as gently as she could, her other hand untying the knot as best she could with her fingers to avoid causing further pain. “I’m almost finished.”

“I don’t know why I have to get all dressed up,” Anton muttered, fisting his hands in the sheets in what to her seemed like a very valiant attempt not to squirm even more. “It’s just Auntie Dorothea and Auntie Petra.”

“And Auntie Dorothea and Auntie Petra are the queens of a friendly foreign nation,” Edelgard patiently reminded him, and couldn’t help but laugh at the way he pouted. “Don’t worry. It’s just for their arrival. Once they’re here and settled in properly, you can change. I just want you to look nice for when they show up. Besides, don’t you want to show Auntie Dorothea how nice your new clothes are?”

“...I guess,” Anton muttered, kicking his feet. Edelgard laughed and leaned in to kiss the top of his head.

It would be unusual, unheard of even, for the emperor of Adrestia to tend to getting her child dressed and ready for the day on her own, especially for such an important event. Normally that would be the job of servants; Edelgard remembered being primped and preened by servants almost every morning, until Hubert was old enough to chase them off and take over her morning routine himself.

For some time, she had trusted her servants to do the same with Anton; both she and Byleth were often busy in the morning, and once Carla joined their family as well, it gave them one less thing to worry about in the mornings— especially on days like this, where something important was going on.

And then Edelgard had come across Anton making a great fuss and being harshly told to sit still and be quiet, while one of the servants tried to dust makeup over his face to hide his freckles because they were ‘unbecoming’.

Edelgard liked to think of herself as much more tolerant than her hardened image, necessary to strike down her enemies and rebuild Fodlan, made her out to be. And maybe she was _too_ soft, because rather than fire the woman outright, she had relocated her to the kitchens and told her that if she ever heard her saying something so ridiculous to _anyone_ , nevermind a _child_ , she would find herself out of a job _very_ quickly.

Edelgard had decided from that moment that she would take over getting her son ready in the morning.

(Of course, there were some mornings when she trusted Hubert with the task because she was too busy— but on a day like this, Hubert was far too busy running around like a chicken with his head cut off alongside Ferdinand, trying to prepare for Petra and Dorothea’s arrival. But she was hardly going to be the sort of person who saw getting her son ready in the morning as something _beneath_ her.)

She ran her fingers through Anton’s hair after the brush, checking to see if there were any leftover knots or tangles, and when she was content that there was nothing left she reached over and took the silk ribbon she had set aside and twisted his hair into a simple tight braid, tying it off with a little bow.

“There,” she said. “All done. Just keep yourself clean until your aunties show up, alright?”

“Yes, mama.”

Anton got up onto his knees to press a kiss to her cheek before sliding off the bed and going running off. She had no doubts that his clothes would be rumpled and his hair would be mussed up by the time she had to collect him to go greet the delegation from Brigid, but she was happier about Anton getting to run around and have a proper childhood than she was concerned with the judgement of others.

As if on cue, Byleth came out of the nursery carrying Clara, who was happily chewing on Byleth’s braid. When she saw Edelgard, she smiled a toothless smile, babbled happily (drooling all over Byleth in the process), and made grabbing motions towards her.

“I’m not going to get her dressed until it’s time to bring her down,” Byleth said. “That way she won’t get the dress Petra sent dirty.”

“Good idea.” Edelgard rose from the bed and stretched her arms out to take Clara, who cooed happily when Byleth passed her over. “I think we’ll both need to clean ourselves up again before then, too,” she said as Clare already started drooling on her.

Byleth gave her a small, placid smile as she moved in to wrap her arms around Edelgard and kissed her on the forehead. 

Clara gurgled happily as she tried to grab Edelgard’s ponytail and chew on it.

Traditionally, the wedding of an emperor was a grand and glorious affair, but Edelgard had wanted a small and intimate ceremony. Though part of her wanted to make a very public example, her desire to enjoy a peaceful, quiet moment with her lover and closest friends had won out.

After everything she had done, didn’t she deserve to do something for herself for once? Byleth had told her exactly that, and when even she said something like that, Edelgard could hardly disagree with her.

Everything about the two of them had really defied tradition from the very beginning. They were two women in love, women who helped reshape the world together, tearing down the systems that had hurt so many people— herself included.

Children were also an important part of the Imperial tradition. Edelgard knew _that_ all too well. She had been the third youngest of eleven children, many of them to different mothers, and all of them born in the hopes of a child with a Major Crest to take over the throne. When none had appeared, it had made her family ripe for the picking when it came to Those Who Slither’s insidious schemes.

Edelgard had never wanted to bring a child into a world where they had any chance of enduring what she had. Not that she would ever _allow_ what happened to her to happen to _any_ child, hers or otherwise, but she couldn’t be everywhere at once— and what if something happened to her? There was nothing certain in the world, and even with the watchful eyes of Hubert and Byleth, there were plenty of people who would surely take great issue with the changes she was making…

And then Dorothea had come along with a solution that— really, should have been _obvious_ to her from the beginning.

By the time Hubert came to collect the four of them for Dorothea and Petra’s arrival, Byleth and Edelgard had cleaned themselves up, wrangled Clara into her dress, and Anton wasn’t even that mussed up. Overall, Edelgard considered it a victory.

When they went to the palace reception hall, Byleth was holding Clara, entertaining her with one of her toys, while Anton walked with her, holding her hand. Though he’d been fussing earlier when she’d been getting him ready, now he was doing his best to stand up straight and present himself well.

Normally, Edelgard would have mixed feelings about her son having to act so formal; now, knowing that he was only acting that way because he wanted to impress his favourite aunties, she only found it cute.

Edelgard knew it was unprofessional of her, but she couldn’t help but completely gloss over what the criers were saying, announcing her old friends’ arrival. She had heard it many times, after all; she and Petra had been working hard to repair the relationship between the Empire and Brigid from the moment they had both taken their respective thrones.

She was far more interested in Petra and Dorothea themselves than in what was being said about them. Whereas Edelgard had… _Softened_ somewhat in the time since the war (she personally blamed all of the time spent sitting and doing paperwork; it was absolutely _not_ because of all of the sweets she now had the opportunity to indulge in now that the war was over and there was no concern about supplies), Petra only seemed to have bulked up even _more_. She was shining like the Brigid sun itself, hale and hearty as ever, the traditional clothing of Brigid showing off much more skin and many more muscles even in its formalwear than any of the countries of Fodlan.

(Byleth, too, had only gotten stronger since the fighting had ceased; she had no head for politics, which Edelgard could hardly blame her for, and so she had much more time for training than she’d had when she was doing the job of an army tactician— after a lifetime of being a mercenary before they had ever met, she supposed such habits were hard to break.

And so long as her wife made time for her in their already busy schedules, she could hardly complain about her keeping her body tone and fit— she had spent a great deal of time staring at and _appreciating_ that tone, fit body over the years, after all.)

Dorothea, on the other hand, had softened just as Edelgard had. Not that Edelgard thought that was a _bad_ thing, not at all. She looked so much healthier and happier than she had during the war. The sun of Brigid had given her sun kissed skin and a smattering of her own freckles, and had lightened her dark hair.

Edelgard and her family stepped forward on cue, at the same moment as Petra and Dorothea stepped forward. She released Anton’s hand so she could offer both to Petra, who clasped them in her own; Byleth could only free up one of her hands while she was holding Clara, but she offered the free one to Dorothea for her to clasp in the same way.

“Welcome to Enbarr, Queen Petra,” Edelgard said, the formality sounding heavy on her tongue, but this was just how things had to be between the two of them in public. Relations between their nations had been strained for obvious reasons. It was important that they bridge that gap.

“We are very welcome, Emperor Edelgard.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Edelgard saw Dorothea lean in to whisper something to Byleth which made her chuckle slightly under her breath. Her attention was almost instantly stolen back, though, by Petra releasing her hands so she could kneel in front of Anton and clasp his in a similar manner.

“W-welcome to Enbarr, Queen Petra,” Anton said, stumbling over the same line a bit, probably because of his excitement. Edelgard thought it was adorable.

“You are looking well, Prince Anton.”

Anton blushed and looked down at where Petra was holding his hands.

Hubert stepped forward— Edelgard had almost forgotten he was there, though not quite, because after so many years she was used to him just sort of blending into the background— and bowed deeply.

“Your journey must have been long and tiring,” he said. “Please, allow me to show you to your rooms so you can retire and rest.”

And so they could have a chance to sit and talk without having eyes on them constantly. Edelgard wished for a day when she could simply be a woman who had a nice time with her friends, rather than one that had to be constantly on guard with her behaviour, lest she say or do the wrong thing and start a potential uprising or international incident.

That day was coming, she knew— the day when she and Byleth could retire from the public eye and simply _be_ , when they could find someplace in the countryside and raise their children in peace. But she simply couldn’t leave her post until she was certain her new form of government would be settled, and wouldn’t easily fall victim to insurrection.

Before she could get too swept away in her own thoughts, Hubert started leading the party away from the main hall and towards the residential area of the palace, and Dorothea took the opportunity to sweep up next to Edelgard.

“Petra and I have a little surprise,” she said, sing-song in Edelgard’s ear.

“Oh? What sort of surprise?”

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” Dorothea leaned in and gave her a small nudge. “It’s nothing big, really. But it wasn’t something we could share during all of _that_.”

“I’ll just have to trust you,” Edelgard said.

And she did.

Dorothea had told her, during one of the harder moments during the war when they had sought solace in a bottle of wine and a warm fire, that she planned to work with orphans after the war was over.

( _‘Mercedes always wanted to work with orphans,’_ Dorothea had told her. Edelgard hadn’t been able to remember if she’d known that. She could hardly even remember if Mercedes was one of the former classmates they had cut down on the battlefield.

She had tried not to think about it too much.)

That was, of course, before Petra had proposed to her in the wake of a well-earned victory and whisked her off with her to Brigid. She hadn’t given up on that dream, though. When things had settled, during her earliest visits to Enbarr as a diplomatic envoy from Brigid, she had made particular note of travelling to orphanages in the capital and surrounding territories.

Eventually, Edelgard had found the time to accompany her on one of her trips. She had watched Dorothea sing for and play with the children. The older children had clung to Dorothea’s skirts and peered around corners at her at first; they were intimidated by the presence of the emperor. The younger children didn’t know enough about who she was, really, to _be_ intimidated. They were just excited to have someone new to play with.

Anton had been… Somewhere in the middle. Too young to quite understand who she was and why she was someone important, but old enough to notice the older children being scared of her. He’d clung to Dorothea but Edelgard had caught him looking at her quite often. She had found it quite adorable, especially the way he would blush and hide behind something whenever she would wave to him.

She hadn’t wanted to show any favouritism. A just emperor wouldn’t do such a thing, and all of the children deserved her equal attention. But she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the little boy who had kept trying to creep closer while she was reading the younger children a story, only to panic and run back when he was noticed… 

She’d had a lot of things to talk to Byleth about when she’d gotten home that day.

“Uncle Caspar!”

If it were anyone else, Anton running towards them and barrelling into them at top speed probably would have knocked them off their feet— but Caspar was fully prepared, crouching with his arms open for Anton to run into so he could scoop him up right off his feet and spin him around in a tight hug.

“Hey kiddo! You’re getting big, huh?”

If there was anyone who could out-talk Caspar, it was an excited Anton, who was bouncing on Caspar’s arm and trying to excitedly babble his way through telling him about everything that had happened since he’d last seen him.

“Don’t let the fact that he’s acting like the two of you are chopped liver fool you. We’re both happy to see you.”

“And it’s good to see both of you as well, Linhardt.”

Because they were in private, Edelgard had no problem pulling Linhardt into a hug. He returned it and quickly moved on to Byleth, deftly dodging Clara’s attempts to grab for his long hair.

That lasted only as long as Byleth catching him by the sleeve before he could escape, and pressing Clara into his arms. She gurgled happily, drooling all over Linhardt’s outfit and pawing at his face with her chubby baby hands.

Dorothea swept up behind Edelgard and wrapped her arms around her from behind, resting her chin on Edelgard’s shoulder.

“So. This is your surprise, hm?” Edelgard gave her head a pat.

“They’ve been in Brigid for a little while. They were about to head out when we were coming here, so we offered to bring them along. But Hubie wouldn’t let us bring them into the main hall. Something about them ‘interfering’ and ‘potentially causing an international incident’.”

Edelgard chuckled, and looked around to see if Hubert was watching their two old classmates _now_ , both of them completely preoccupied by her children. But he must have been off somewhere taking care of more preparations for the rest of Dorothea and Petra’s visit.

Caspar wandered over to rescue Linhardt, holding Anton on one arm and taking Clara in the other. She babbled happily at the way he was bouncing her on his arm.

“It’s nice having everyone together again,” Edelgard said. “We should do something special for it. If we have the time, of course.”

“We can _make_ the time,” Dorothea said. “I mean, it’s practically a family reunion, right? That’s a big deal.”

They really did have a lot of ground to cover; no matter how many times Edelgard and Petra travelled back and forth between Adrestia and Brigid, there always seemed to be more to do, on top of the work they already had to do to managed their own countries.

But Dorothea was right; it _was_ a special occasion. With her and Petra in Brigid, and Linhardt and Caspar off exploring the world, it was rare that they all got together like this.

And watching Clara happily grab at Caspar’s face with no concept of how hard she was grabbing or how sharp her tiny nails could be, while Anton tried to nervously scold her while still excitedly continuing the story he’d been telling Caspar before he’d taken Clara from Linhardt— who was now watching with a slight smile on his face and making absolutely no move to help him out in the same way— she had a hard time thinking of a good reason to say no.


	3. Chapter 3

Adopting Anton had been one of the most exciting times of Edelgard’s life, right up there with her and Byleth’s wedding, but it had also been… _Challenging_.

Thankfully, Edelgard had never been the sort of person to back down from a challenge.

Perhaps the easiest of those challenges— but also the most persistently annoying— was the fact that it was… Well, unprecedented. It was not unheard of for nobles to adopt children, even ones of common birth, but it was most commonly because the child was in possession of a Crest that the noble wanted to use to advance their own status. In the rare cases that it wasn’t, the noble was usually regarded as— _eccentric_ , at best.

It had never been done in the Hresvelg family, not once since the first Emperor. And people in power disliked change. It was hardly the first personal choice she had made that every noble in the Empire felt they were entitled to criticize. Thankfully that gave her plenty of experience in how to deal with them, and even more thankfully, most of them were afraid of Byleth— almost as much as they were afraid of Hubert. Byleth’s stone-faced stare and Hubert’s reputation were powerful weapons she had never felt more grateful for.

No, it wasn’t nobles being stupid and loud about it that truly bothered her. It was Anton himself.

His parents had died during the war. She wasn’t surprised; she was sure that many children in orphanages all across Fodlan were there for the same reason. She had steeled herself early on, knowing that the path she had chosen to take was one paved with a river of blood. She had regretted knowing there would inevitably be a loss of life, but since she knew there was no way her enemies would surrender peacefully, it couldn’t be avoided.

That didn’t make it any less difficult for her to face the repercussions of those choices. And that was good. She would have begun to doubt her own humanity and heart if she could do something so terrible, no matter how good the reason, and not feel remorse. The best way she could think to honour the people who had fallen because of her war was to forge ahead in creating the new unified Fodlan that she had promised, while at the same time doing all she could to ensure that nothing like what she had done would ever need to be done again so that no other innocent lives would have to be lost.

It was a different matter entirely, however, to deal with someone whose life had been personally affected by a tragedy you had caused, especially someone who was too young to truly understand. When she had gone back to the orphanage with Byleth and had spoken with the caretaker, hearing how Anton’s parents— his mother a soldier, his father a farmer who stayed behind to protect their son and homestead— had died, it had made her… _Hesitate_.

And while she had been busy speaking with the woman, Byleth had introduced herself to Anton, who took to her instantly— and the rest was history.

Edelgard had a great deal of respect for history, of course, but she preferred to look to the future— and to the present.

And her present was a very lovely place to be.

They had all gathered in her private sitting room. There was a fire in the hearth for the comfort of their four guests who had just come from Brigid, which even in winter was warmer than most of Fodlan in the summer, and they had all gathered in front of it on her sofa, chairs, and in Caspar and Linhardt’s case, on the rug.

Edelgard let herself truly relax for the first time since she’d woken up that day. She had changed out of her regalia and let her hair down, and had settled comfortably into her seat, sinking into it without any concern for her posture. Most everyone was in the same state; Dorothea and Petra had changed into their casual clothing, Linhardt and Caspar were still wearing their travelling clothes, Bernadetta had come straight from the Vestra estate in what Edelgard presumed was what she’d been wearing in the privacy of her room, and though Hubert and Ferdinand had had no casual clothes on hand to change into, they had both lost a few of their many layers over the course of the night.

It was… Pleasant. Warm. Familiar in a way that Edelgard had not expected to ever feel, when she had started to walk her chosen path. She had fully expected it to just be her and Hubert against the world, with the loyalty of others being offered only out of a sense of duty or fear rather than love and devotion…

And then Byleth had stood against Rhea in the Holy Tomb to save her, and the rest, similarly, was history.

Though Clara had been put to bed hours ago, Anton had begged to stay up, and Edelgard just couldn’t say no to him— and Byleth had been unable to say no to _both_ of them giving her big puppy dog eyes. Edelgard was sure that Anton had never actually seen all of his aunts and uncles in the same place before— though they all kept in touch and met up where they could, they had gone their separate ways after the war had concluded, and it was hard to arrange meetings like this.

Now, he was lying against Byleth’s chest, his arms wrapped loosely around her as he fought to keep his eyes open. Byleth was gently petting his hair, which Edelgard was sure wasn’t helping his fight; he let out a jaw-cracking yawn and it took him a second or two to open his eyes afterwards.

“Alright,” Byleth said. “You’ve gotten plenty of extra time to stay up. It’s bedtime now.”

“But mum…” Anton interrupted himself with another yawn, and before he could continue, Byleth stood up and picked him up in one fluid motion without any trouble.

“No buts. Everyone will still be here when you wake up tomorrow morning,” Byleth said as she carried him towards his bedroom. Edelgard stopped her by grabbing her sleeve as she passed by, and rose to her feet so she could press a kiss to the back of Anton’s head.

“Goodnight, darling.”

“Mm… Goodnight, mama…”

He settled against Byleth’s shoulder, already falling asleep despite his protests. Edelgard sat back down as Byleth went deeper into their private quarters to put him to bed.

“Aww, Edie. That was so sweet.”

Though she’d been dimly aware of everyone, she hadn’t realized all eyes were on her until that moment, and she suddenly felt very self-conscious.

“He’s really growing up fast, isn’t he?” Dorothea sighed from where she was sitting on the armrest of the chair Petra was sitting in, leaning over to rest her head on Petra’s shoulder.

“He _has_ become a fine young man,” Ferdinand agreed from the opposite end of the couch, where he was sitting with Bernadetta leaning into him and resting on his broad chest and shoulder, Hubert having pulled up the other chair on his opposite side so even with the limited space on the couch they could sit with their hands clasped together. “You and Byleth should be quite proud, Edelgard.”

“Even all these years later, it still surprises me to hear you say such things,” Edelgard admitted. “But really, he’s still too young to be called a ‘young man’, wouldn’t you say? And besides, it’s not as though I’ve done anything special.”

“You have been giving him a loving home. I am sure he has much gratitude for that.”

“Yeah, what Petra said! And he’s such a sweet boy! You and Byleth are doing a really great job!”

Bernadetta was giving her what she assumed was an encouraging smile, but she had a sort of far-off look in her eyes that was a little sad— thinking about her own parents, maybe?

Edelgard hoped to create a world where no one would ever have to grow up the way Bernadetta had. Maybe that was too much to ask for; even without Crests and nobility, there would always be terrible people. But at least she could do everything in her power to lessen the normality of it.

She wasn’t the only one who looked far away, almost as if caught in a day-dream; when Edelgard looked to Hubert (in part hoping he would save her from being the center of attention, though she had no idea _how_ ), he was idly tracing his thumb across the back of Ferdinand’s hand and staring into the fire, or rather, at nothing at all somewhere in the middle distance.

“Is everything alright, Hubert?” It wasn’t like him to be so easily distracted, even when he was just in the company of friends.

“Hm? Oh, I was just… Thinking.” Hubert looked up a fraction of a second slower than he would normally have done. He really _must_ have had something on his mind. “You know, I believe Anton is growing to be a lot like _you_ , Lady Edelgard. I wonder if he’ll continue to take after you as he grows up.”

“Do you think so?” Edelgard blushed— not that she hadn’t been blushing the entire time, what with all the compliments that she didn’t feel were _deserved_. “I can’t see it, myself. And I hope he doesn’t take after me _too_ much. I’d rather he have a nice, _peaceful_ life.”

She wasn’t exactly going to _stop_ her children from going into politics if that was what she truly wanted, but hearing Hubert say that made her fear the possibility that they might think it was _expected_ of them, especially since by necessity Anton had had to learn the ins and outs of behaving like a proper noble child. Or, even worse, that they would feel like they had to in order to make her proud…

“Regardless,” she said, before that could invite Hubert to sing her praises, which would no doubt lead to one or both of them being teased. “I think Anton takes a lot more after Byleth— although he _is_ a lot more expressive, thankfully.”

A round of well-meaning chuckles went through the former Black Eagle Strike Force.

“And he’s _so_ attached to her,” Edelgard continued. “It’s actually quite adorable, watching him follow along after her all day.”

Anton had been more attached to Byleth from day one. Sometimes, on particularly bad days, Edelgard felt it sting a bit— but most of the time, she was happy just to know both of _them_ were happy. And it wasn’t like Anton hadn’t made it clear that he loved her, too— she had barely had time to excuse herself before bursting into tears the first time he had called her ‘mama’. He just didn’t _cling_ to her the way he did to her wife.

“And Clara’s getting so big!” Caspar added from the floor, not bothering to lower his voice despite the fact that Linhardt was asleep on his chest. Then again, Edelgard had seen Linhardt fall asleep on the battlefield, and if the two of them had stayed together so long she was sure he was more than used to Caspar being loud. “I bet she’s gonna start walking soon! Then you’re gonna have a hard time keeping her out of trouble!”

“Don’t remind me,” Edelgard said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “I have a hard enough time keeping her out of trouble _now_. She’s developed quite the obsession with hair pulling as of late…”

The conversation devolved into excited chattering about her kids, along with Linhardt’s soft snoring and sleepy mumbling. She saw a tell-tale glitter in the eyes of a few people that made her wonder if she would have some adorable nieces and nephews running around any time soon…

She was starting to think Hubert wasn’t distracted by something that was _bothering_ him…

She let the conversation move on without her; Caspar, Bernadetta, Ferdinand, Dorothea, and Petra seemed happy to carry it, while she and Hubert listened calmly and Linhardt continued to sleep. Soon, Byleth rejoined them; she heard the door open behind her and moments later felt arms wrap around her from behind as Byleth leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Sorry,” she said. “He took a little bit more convincing to go to bed.”

“No need to apologize,” Edelgard said, and leaned back so the second kiss Byleth pressed to her forehead instead.

As Byleth rounded the couch to squeeze in next to her again, Ferdinand cleared his throat. “Well, now that the youngest member of our party has retired for the evening, I had Bernadetta bring something we might all enjoy…”

He turned to reach behind the sofa for Bernadetta’s bag, practically dragging her with him as she remained curled against his chest, albeit now with wider eyes and a small ‘eep!’ of surprise. Hubert, who was in a much better position to actually fumble with the bag, finally snapped out of his distraction to help.

He and Ferdinand both emerged holding two bottles of wine each, and the rest of the room perked up— even Linhardt, although it was hard to tell whether that was because of the wine or because of the way Caspar sat up while he was still lying on top of him.

“What better to help celebrate us all being back together after so long, hm?” Ferdibert waggled the bottle temptingly, and Hubert fondly shook his head.

Absolutely no one was objecting to his suggestion, though.


	4. Chapter 4

Edelgard was objecting _a little bit_ to his suggestion by the time she managed to slouch her way to bed.

Even though all of them knew it would be a busy day tomorrow— there were many things to be done before Petra left— they had stayed up late into the night, reminiscing about their days at school and the early peaceful days after the war.

They had not talked overmuch about the war itself, but she had expected that, and certainly had no complaints.

Because no one had brought glasses and no one had any interest in going to get some, they had simply passed the bottles around. As a result, she was sure none of them knew exactly how much they had to drink— and Ferdinand had failed to mention how potent the brew was.

She was also sure none of them had left without at least _some_ wine stains on their clothes by the end of it.

It had been quite late by the time they had all stumbled their way out of her room, late enough that Edelgar was half expecting to see the sun starting to peek up over the horizon, though she luckily was proven wrong. Petra and Caspar, despite being just as tipsy as the rest of them, had scooped their lovers up into their arms to carry them to bed; Hubert and Bernadetta had done their best to support Ferdinand between the two of them, because he had had far more wine than anyone else, and had graciously accepted Edelgard’s offer to use the guest chambers for the night rather than trying to get themselves home.

Edelgard sighed as she crawled into bed— literally crawled, because the room was spinning just enough for her to not trust herself to do anything else— and collapsed next to Byleth. Byleth merely reached over to gently pet her hair.

“Make sure to drink some water,” she said. “The last thing we need is for you to spend all of tomorrow’s important meetings hungover.”

“You were drinking more than I was; why are you so unaffected?” she grumbled, hoping that Byleth understood her since she said it mostly into her pillow.

“I grew up with Mercenaries, El. I was drinking like a fish long before I _should_ have been.”

The explanation made perfect sense, but it still left Edelgard grumbling about how unfair it was.

She rolled over onto her back and sat up enough to reach for the glass of water on her nightstand, taking Byleth’s words to heart. Byleth gently rubbed her back as she did, moving closer so she was pressed up against her side.

“We should check on Clara before we go to sleep,” Edelgard said after drinking half of her glass in one gulp— not the smartest idea, but she hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until she had already begun. Byleth took the glass from her when she was finished and leaned across her to put it back on the nightstand, kissing her temple at the same time.

“Already did, while you were getting ready for bed.” Rather than just settling back into bed, Byleth wrapped her arms around Edelgard and pulled her back with her. “You should try to get as much sleep as you can.”

Edelgard sighed and leaned into Byleth’s body, resting her head on Byleth’s chest. A warmth bloomed in her chest when she felt Byleth rest her chin on the top of her head in turn.

“You need to sleep, too.”

“I’m not the one trying to change the entire world.” Byleth’s hand came down on her back and rubbed between her shoulder blades. “I can always take a nap if I need one. You don’t have that luxury.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She meant it, too. Edelgard couldn’t imagine even having gotten through the war with her heart and spirit intact the way she had if she hadn’t had Byleth by her side. She of course was determined to go through with it even if Byleth had turned against her in the Holy Tomb— but what else would she have needed to sacrifice?

Not to mention, she wouldn’t be here like she was— lying in bed with the woman she loved while her two children slept comfortably just a room away.

Byleth was the reason she was not only the Emperor, but was still… _Edelgard_. Why she could sit and talk with old friends about happy school memories and gush about her kids growing up and not feel like the weight of the future of the entire world was crushing her.

She rolled over so she was lying on top of Byleth, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. Byleth softly pet her hair as she squirmed under her so they could both get comfortable.

“If you fall asleep on top of me, you’re going to have to get up to check on Clara when she wakes up for her feeding.”

“I think I can handle that.”

Even if it had only been her and Byleth, Edelgard would have still considered their family to be ‘complete’. She had never thought of herself as the sort of person who _needed_ children to feel complete. Bringing Anton home with them, seeing him open up slowly to both of them and adjust to his new surroundings, had just been… Icing on the cake, in a sense.

Clara had come a few years later, once Anton was settled and she and Byleth felt a little more confident in their parenting skills. It had been another situation that was just— Well, Edelgard didn’t believe in divine intervention, but it had certainly felt like _something_ was at work with how well the timing had lined up.

They had been on a diplomatic mission to Brigid at the time, coincidentally. Dorothea had suggested that they put in some time making rounds among the people, to show the solidarity between Brigid and Adrestia. It had been a solid idea, and Edelgard had no idea that she had been planning to bring them to another orphanage.

Brigid did not have the number of war orphans that Fodlan did; Edelgard had done her best to keep Brigid on the whole out of the war, though Petra’s grandfather had offered several battalions of their finest warriors. She felt guilty enough already that she had dragged their princess into the conflict. Crests were a Fodlan problem; dragging foreign allies into the matter had seemed disingenuous, somehow.

But there were always orphans, no matter where you went. Parents died to regular violence or illness, or children were left abandoned and unwanted; it was just an unfortunate truth of the world.

Like in Enbarr, Dorothea had been an apparently familiar face, and had been quick to introduce Edelgard to everyone. In Brigid, the fact that she was an Emperor was not nearly the obstacle that it had been in Enbarr; all of the children had practically swarmed her.

Perhaps it wasn’t so much divine intervention as it was Dorothea knowing her far too well, because she had been eager to introduce her to the infants in particular, and from the moment she and Byleth had met Clara things had just… _Clicked_.

Of course, it had been a bit more complicated than all that. Anton’s adoption had been complicated too, and Clara was no different— and there was also the fact that she was from Brigid, which had its own challenges. They were allies, yes, but there were still plenty of justified reasons for the two nations to be at odds in the minds of the people.

She also didn’t want it to seem like they were simply adopting Clara as some sort of political gesture. Edelgard did not want to place her at the center of some sort of goodwill campaign. With any luck, her plans would go smoothly enough that Clara would still be young enough that she wouldn’t have to worry about such things when she retired from her position.

She wanted to be able to bring Clara back to her homeland— in fact, retiring to live in Brigid had crossed her mind more than once.

It wasn’t that Edelgard didn’t trust Byleth, not in the slightest— the only person she trusted as much as her was Hubert. But even though she was sleepy with the alcohol in her system and the fact that it was quite late, she couldn’t stop thinking about Clara. She lay in the dark, dozing against Byleth’s chest, until her wife’s breathing evened out and she was certain she was asleep. Then she carefully wiggled out of Byleth’s arms, Byleth stirring only slightly; Edelgard had plenty of practice at getting out of bed without disturbing her.

She crept into Clara’s room and up to her crib, peering into it. Clara was of course sleeping peacefully, and Edelgard had no desire to wake her up. She’d had a long and exciting day, after all…

Clara had been a happy baby from the moment she had met her, always wanting to explore and touch, and Edelgard wanted to preserve that happiness and curiosity. She was learning and growing so fast, it almost brought a tear to Edelgard’s eyes—

Or, well. She wasn’t kidding anyone. She had cried over it more than once. It turned out that when everyone said being a parent meant you had a lot of emotions about seeing your children grow up, they weren’t joking.

But as long as she was growing up happy and well taken care of, Edelgard was happy. And seeing her sleeping so peacefully, one of her little fists curled up near her mouth as she slept on her stomach, made a now familiar warmth bloom in her stomach— and encouraged her to work even harder towards her goal so she could provide her with the peaceful life she deserved.

Edelgard reached into the crib and gently pet Clara’s soft curls, then withdrew her hand before she woke her up. She moved around her crib and to the door that was not her own and slipped into Anton’s room.

She suppressed a laugh at the way he was snoring. Like his little sister, he was lying on his stomach, arms wrapped around the pillow he was drooling on. Edelgard crept up to his bed an brushed his hair out of his face so he wouldn’t wake up with it stuck to his face, and leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead.

Yes, a peaceful and quiet life. She had always known that it was going to be a long and arduous road to get there; she had thrown an entire country into a chaotic war to achieve her goals, and it wasn’t fair for her to ask for peace until she had achieved it for everyone else. Until she had not only fixed the damage she had done, but had made things _better_ , as she had always hoped to do.

But she _would_ get there. She truly believed that. There were so many people around her who supported her and helped her every day to reach her goals; how could she not? And with the love of her wife and children, Edelgard felt like she could take on an _army_ for their sakes, and her own.

She crept back _out_ of their rooms silently. When she got back into her room, she wasn’t that surprised to find Byleth sleepily watching her through half-lidded eyes. She was smiling softly, and when Edelgard moved to climb back into bed, she lifted the covers and her arm to let her crawl back into her arms.

“Goodnight, El,” Byleth said softly, kissing the top of her head once Edelgard was done squirming around to make herself comfortable.

“Goodnight, Byleth… I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And no matter what else might lie ahead, that made all of it more than worth it.


End file.
